Angels Gather Here
by casfics
Summary: Winter should be magical for Ethan. New home and newly a qualified consultant, it is a time of many ‘firsts’. But, there’s a missing piece.
1. chapter 1

_**AN: I adore winter and I thought I'd do a fic for Ethan. I know some writers/readers on here love Alicia, and some of you hate her. She will feature lots in this alongside E but other characters will too. Let me know what you think, excited to take this forward)**_

The orange curl of a flame danced around the black wick, puddles of wax collecting in the dip just under it.

It was about ten feet away. Ethan watched out the corner of his eye, lazy but attentive.

He wondered where she was, thinking it must have been late. With a little yawn, he checked his watch, learning it had long surpassed ten.

'Lish...' The gravelly, exhausted tone of his voice managed to bounce round the room. He hoped she heard, and doesn't plan on calling her again. She did.

'I'm coming!' She called back, then a pause. 'Two minutes!'

After a thoughtful pause himself, he realised it was not worth nagging. She had an elaborate way of cleaning her face - skin routine, rather - and he had made the unforgivable mistake a few days earlier of describing it wrong.

Sure enough, she found her way through. Smiling, she tightened her dressing gown with a gentle pull and made her way over to him. As always, he counted himself lucky.

 _She is beautiful._

She chose _him_.

Her fluffy hair fell in waves against her shoulders, which are hunched thanks to the shyness she felt around him. He resented that - and mentally made a note to reassure her.

'You look beautiful.' His fatigued eyes sparkled suddenly, as if they'd sought the much needed energy from her mere presence in the room.

She giggled at this, before collapsing on his knee. There was plenty of room on the sofa for two or even three, but she didn't take advantage of it. It was chilly and that in itself served as a silly excuse to cuddle up.

'Shall I pop open the fizz?' She said, leaning dangerously across him for the wine balanced on the cabinet. It sounded like she was telling him rather than asking, and there was no stopping her. He accidentally drunk in the scent of her shampoo and observed how it almost screamed Alicia. Whilst he once hated coconuts, he'd grown to love them. And, he loved her. He thought this more as he watched her try and unscrew the lid, determined as ever. Though the bundles of energy she had threatened to exhaust him, he was energised by it all at the same time.

'Oops. Careful, sweetheart.' He idly tilted the bottle so the cork wasn't pointing in his direction. Safety first didn't exist in her world, and her profession made her recklessness even more ironic.

The pop was annoyingly loud, and managed to be right in Ethan's ear. This only made her laugh some more, before sloshing liquid in the first glass and passing it in his direction. She then poured herself one while he, mindful as ever, gently put the bottle back on the side.

'Cheers... to us.' A smile lingered on her lips, even when she pressed the rim of the glass to them, it was still visible underneath.

'Yes, cheers to us.' He said, lacing an arm around her shoulders.

It was commonplace for Ethan to be buried in his thoughts. He was very much a solitary individual, even when in the company of others. Luckily, he didn't feel the need to justify himself - Alicia had become accustomed to it. A promised bottle of wine certainly didn't go amiss with her. Though not a big drinker himself, he sipped the tinged liquid and felt it warm his throat, all the while making the right noises and facial expressions.

With a little sigh, perhaps wistfully, Alicia placed the glass on the coffee table and leaned back on his chest. She begun to peel back the corner of his checked dressing gown.

'This is getting tatty.' She remarked, tiredly tugging at the fabric. 'See, I've found you something to put on your wish list now.'

 _Christmas. The first without-_

His eyes turned glassy, now fixed back on the candle by the fireplace. Before long, his attention was brought idly back to her fingers, which had managed to scrabble beneath the cotton material that once clung to his chest. She was so excited at the prospect of doing her nails for the few days off work, it had seemingly slipped her mind. Though glittery acrylics were certainly pretty, they felt like claws. He tried not to wince as they grazed his skin.

'You're not even hard to buy for, not really. You have your likes and your dislikes. Tea, cosy socks, some new glasses, maybe an encylo-encyclopi- an encyclopae-'

'Encyclopaedia.' He corrected fondly. 'I do like my books, yes.'

'I should really know how to say that, shouldn't I?' Her face twisted with doubt.

'Uh, well, you have had a glass to drink. Even so, everyone has a word like that. It's not one you particularly need to know.' He tried to reassure.

Deep down, he surmised she was perhaps right. A medical doctor with a 5 year degree and two years' worth of training, paired with the best part of 26 years' life experience should really know the word for a non-fiction book. With skepticism, he wondered what she'd read at uni. If she'd read at all, for that matter.

Still, a tipsy Alicia was evidently mollified by his half-hearted words of reassurance, for she started tracing the planes of his chest lovingly. For a second or two, he let her, before removing her hand and holding it in his.

'I'm glad you're so prepared. I haven't even started yet, though I guess we're only in November. And, in my favour, you're exceptionally easy to buy for.' He said quietly.

'Exceptionally?' She gave a hiccup. 'Why, _exceptionally_?'

'Anything that's alcohol or chocolate based, you like your toiletries, sparkly and pink and glitzy and silly things...'

There was a pause, then their faces remarkably closer together. 'Ethan Hardy, did you just call me silly?'

He could taste the alcohol on her breath and watched her lashes flutter tellingly. The expressions she pulled were sloppy, her words were incoherent, she stumbled over her words, she hiccuped. He mentally rummaged to formulate the least seductive reply possible.

'No.' He sighed, realising how flat he'd sounded as soon as the syllable escaped his (sober) lips.

She didn't notice though, in fact, if anything, the sparkle in her eye grew. 'I think you did...'

He gave a nervous laugh as she closed in on him. 'I-I didn't, I-'

As soon as her lips landed on his, it was becoming more and more clear that he was going to passively drink what she'd had and there was nothing he could do about it. After an awkward second of tongues tumbling around together, he managed to pull back slightly.

'What's the matter?' Seemingly, his hesitance reigned in the slurs and sloppy behaviour; in a second, she'd sobered up. The alarm was growing on her face.

 _Think, Ethan, reassure her, for God's sake._

Except he couldn't.

All he could focus on was what wasn't there, instead of what was. Alarming spheres of gold and silver, speckled with glitter, were encased in a medium-sized box. They sat in the corner by the rocking chair. Waiting. Threatening things to come. It was wrong.

'I-uh. I'll be a minute. I've just remembered something I've got to do.' He lied, jiggling his leg so that she moved.

She huffed a little. 'Don't be long, yeah?'

'No, I won't be. Cork in the wine, and then maybe we could get that early night you mentioned at work earlier?' The corners of his mouth twitched, nerves and amusement bundled together - before Alicia, he would never have even implied nor referenced anything slightly suggestive. She brought it out in him though, and surely enough, his advance was met with a coy smile.

'Alright. I'll give you a few minutes and then I'll be through.'

'Perfect.' He smiled genially, pausing for a second and readjusting the cushion that had strayed from beneath her.

Although he walked with purpose to their little bedroom, and it was only a mere ten feet away from where she was sitting, he could feel her stare burning into his back.

And, he knew she was trying to piece things together. Everything was a puzzle to her, and no better one than her own boyfriend.

The bedroom. Alicia's possessions scattered across the duvet. There were only a few inches of the chocolate suede carpet - that she had clamoured so much for in the shop only weeks before - that were visible. Clothes, makeup, toiletries, all of it clutter, but meaningful to her and so it stayed right there.

He wandered over to the wardrobe, carefully prising the heavy wood open. Again, an item of Alicia's choice. She had sworn it was "vintage", while Ethan preferred "about to fall apart". Car journeys to and from furniture shops were saturated with her effervesces, it was _so cheap_ and _such a bargain_ and eliminated all worries about coordinating things, and he just _had_ to see it was amazing.

After hours of trawling, legs aching and perspiration prickling his skin, it was by far the easiest option to just agree. Shopping was not his best pastime, nor was it his forte. Not only that, but it would have been futile for Ethan to have remarked that price was not a problem for either of them and they would be wise to consider something a little... sturdier.

His finger rested in the groove that a bruise made, trying not to wobble it too much. A trip to the ED - his own ED - was not top of his priority list.

His eyes landed on a leathery book, top shelf. Tiptoeing allowed him to reach it and bring it slowly down into his lap. Without looking behind, he lowered himself down. A lump. With a sigh, he pulled it out, knowing exactly what it was going to be.

He was greeted with the rather creepy face of her most-loved childhood possession, Mr Sausage. Its fur was fuzzy and its green eyes boggled in an alarming manner. Ethan had known about it from the first time he went to her flat, _officially_. Over a takeaway, Max had made a throwaway remark and he and Jez had sniggered and then dismissed it and left to the pub.

When climbing into bed that night, Alicia had no time to hide it. She spilled the convoluted tale of how she was gifted it for passing her junior school exams, and that they never knew if it was a frog or a dinosaur really, and his name came from her celebratory supper that Jackie made that night for the three of them, and that it was very much loved indeed even twenty years later.

As a result, he became accustomed to the fact it was always three of them under the covers. If he thought about it enough, it was unnerving. Always there, always watching. The timely question of whether or not to finally dustbin the item was debated in depth when they had to half their belongings before moving weeks before. However, she was adamant, and her defensiveness for an inanimate object filled him with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Fuzzier than Mr Sausage's fur, even.

He dislodged the toy and launched it to her side of the bed, focusing back on the box.

Lifting the first page with an index finger and thumb, he felt his chest tighten.

A blonde, chubby baby and a smiley toddler sat by a Christmas tree, tangled in fairy lights. It was probably a fire hazard, but it was a memory. Something he wouldn't be recreating in the same way, or with the same person. In scrawly handwriting alien to him, the letters were inscribed on the page.

 _December 24th 1989._


	2. chapter 2

**sydneysages: Thank you times a million! Know you don't normally write for these but I am always in awe of your works so your reviews mean the world. Glad you're enjoying. Great idea about an Alicia POV, will definitely try and incorporate that into a chapter of this story soon!!**

 **ReadingxTherapy: Thank you lovely. So glad to know you like this, even though I know Lily/Iain are more your favourites! I will probs write for them less and Ethan more, so it's amazing that you're still so supportive. Hope you enjoy this x**

'What's Mr Sausage doing down here?' Alicia grumbled, leaning down the bed.

Taking no notice, Ethan typed away on his laptop, giving her only half of his attention. The documents and spreadsheets that sat in front of him were much more demanding. 'Uh, no idea, darling.'

'I swear I left him on my pillow.' She said.

With a sigh, he closed the lid. 'You left him on my side of the bed, I moved him out the way.'

'You hid him on purpose!' Her voice was incredulous. 'I've always known you had something in for him.'

'No, not on purpose.' Ethan was quick to defend himself. 'I don't have time to care enough.'

'I'm stuck.' Her voice was muffled. With little alarm, he glanced over and saw she was correct.

'Just move, don't mess about!' He stifled a laugh.

'Ethan, I can't-'

'Yes you can. Just sit up.' He told her calmly, refusing to intervene.

Eventually, she sat up, scowling. 'Thanks for the help.'

He tutted at this, then plunged them into darkness.

Giving a huge yawn, Ethan wriggled his toes under the covers, trying to readjust them in the dark.

Alicia, in contrast, thrashed her legs around until she was comfortable. The rustling persisted until he cleared his throat, then it abruptly stopped.

'I'm beginning to think you never stop wriggling. Ever.'

'Bit of an exaggeration, I'd say.' She replied.

He felt lumpy material scratch up against his bare chest 'Can Mr Sausage not rest on the floor for one night?' Ethan asked, voice withering.

'What if I have a bad dream?' She was either accidentally or purposefully childlike in tone, he didn't know which.

'What if you do?' He replied.

'Well, he'll protect me.' She said, quietly.

Ethan snorted. 'I'm redundant, then?'

An arm snaked up across his chest, butterfly kisses placed in a scatter across his collarbones.

She laid her head to rest there. 'Not redundant. Never hurts to have two safety nets.'

He paused. 'I can't tell if you're serious or joking. Also, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I don't think he's protecting anyone any time soon.'

After a few moments of silence, a weird sensation grew in the pit of Ethan's stomach. 'You're not... upset... are you?'

A sniff, then a cough to mask it. 'No, of course not.'

Nearest the lamp, he gently tapped it and peered down. 'Oh, Alicia-'

'I'm fine, time of year isn't it?'

He winced, uncomfortable. 'Not really, no.'

'Yeah, coughs and colds are rife. After working in a hospital, I was bound to get a sniffle at some point.' She blatantly lied, and her voice faltered and quietened.

He sighed raggedly, tired now. It was almost an insult that she thought she could fool him. He knew the difference, better than anyone, between real pain and fake pain. It was probably hormones, he could usually tell. Still, it didn't lessen the significance. 'I didn't mean to upset you at all. It was more meant in jest-'

A pause. He could almost feel her hesitance - an internal battle of whether or not to keep up the pretence that he'd already seen through. She relented, to his relief. 'I just feel silly.'

His hand moved to stroke her hair, fingers leafing through the tendrils. 'I know, but you needn't. Heck, you have Mr Sausage, but I was the child with a lisp that said Sally Strawberry had sore-'

'Nibbles. _Heck_ is such an outdated term.'

'See, I'm archaic, what would I know? I'm stuck in old times but you've brought old times with you.'

'Oh, you're _so_ deep, it makes my head hurt.' She groaned, but her smile had returned.

'I'll take that as a compliment.' He pulled a face.

'All down to interpretation.' She said.

'And now who's deep?'

'It's rubbing off on me, that's why-' She stifled a yawn with a fist to her mouth.

'Maybe our early night will have to be just that.' He checked his watch lazily. 'Uh, definitely.'

'Don't be boring.' Her eyes sparkled. 'We're in prime position, Ethan.'

'Can't you just sleep? See, it's a novelty. You don't always sleep on me, I get too warm. Here I am offering, a-and-'

She raised an eyebrow petulantly, before realising further cajoling would be futile. 'Can I at least have a back rub then?'

He laughed in spite of himself. 'I am on to that move, and it won't work, so no.'

She slumped, clearly disheartened. 'Maybe I mean it this time. It's okay. I get it if you don't want to make love to me.'

'Alicia Munroe, I know you too well. I also know you have an early tomorrow, and that you'll kick yourself if you don't rest up. Be responsible.' He told her, authority laden in his voice.

She leaned forwards, mere centimetres from Ethan's lips. Everything lingered right there in the air between them. His insides squeezed and contracted. 'Be _fun_.'

With another sigh, he ran his hand down his face. 'Come on, let's just lie here.' He snapped the light out, realising darkness made things easier.

She shuffled closer, painfully defiant. 'When was the last time we had sex?'

His face grew hotter, like a schoolboy still embarrassed by even the word. 'Uh, l-last week. No, Tuesday. Definitely Tuesday.'

'See, five days.' She said, almost sulkily.

'Four.' He corrected tiredly.

'Don't be anal about it, Ethan.' She grumbled.

'Oh, I'm not, I'd hate that.' He chimed in, on the cusp of enjoying himself.

'So, you want to sleep, yet you've _just_ made an innuendo?'

'You left the door open for that, to be fair. I had to. Not literally, of course.' He replied, laughing this time as she hit him with her pillow. After a few seconds he dodged and snatched it off her, holding it at his side.

'You're flirting! She whined accusingly. 'And being crude. It's most unlike you.'

'You bring it out in me, I suppose.' He replied.

' _Suppose_.' She laughed again lightly, before gradually coming to a stop. Her eyes, all aglow, rested on his.

Another moment of silence. Then, he let out a guttural moan, the noise of a man who was torn. Desire was engraved in his expression, but he was so careful and so conscious of her that he was largely unwilling to act on it.

'Come on.' She almost pleaded. 'Don't worry about me, I've told you I'll be fine. It's unlike Ethan Hardy to make promises he doesn't keep...'

In a second, with neither knowing who instigated it, they had rolled over. Beneath him, Alicia giggled smugly. She had won. She was always going to anyway.

'You're alright smiling away.' He said, but begun to laugh himself. Exhilarated, overtired, full of raw emotion.

It was true - he was young and nights in with her should be plentiful and romantic and exciting. They often weren't though. They were quick decisions after a shared bottle of cheap wine, bought from the local Aldi. Film nights on the sofa before they decided the film was too boring. Simply, and his favourite reason, when they just hadn't seen enough of each other. Their cosy nights in never happened when they planned for them to, and they always happened when they didn't plan. It was the kind of spontaneity Ethan hated and loved all at the same time.

'Oh, you're so tired, Alicia...' He traced the dark shadow under her right eye with a gentle thumb.

'I always have bags under my eyes, I probably just didn't take all the mascara off properly.' She dismissed.

'No, you did.' He replied quietly. 'You can always tell with you. Well, I can, anyway. Your eyes go greeny, all round and warm, that's how you know.'

'Hm?' She mumbled, predictably disinterested in a fact about herself, and more occupied with the buttons on his trousers.

'They're just for decoration.' He told her quickly. 'But yes. Explain that medically. Maybe you're the exception.'

'I'll leave it to you, Mr Consultant. You probably know a fair bit about eyes.'

'Ah, so you were listening?'

She frowned, glancing up. 'Course I was. I always listen, just not actively.'

'There's more to you than one might think.' Ethan mused.

'Mm. Much as I love your rambles, I, like you, would like to get some rest tonight. So...' She trailed off, gesturing.

'Yes, yes. He fumbled in his drawer, fingers scrabbling around the plastic of the wrapper. 'To be clear, I love you. I don't want you to be in any doubt over that, not for a minute. I just hate to think I'm taking advantage-'

'You are polite to a fault. Don't be silly.' She caressed his cheek gently. 'I can't believe that after all my failed attempts at seduction, I won you over by guilt tripping you about breaking a promise. You and your morals.'

He chuckled. 'There's morality in everything.' The light didn't have to be on for him to sense she'd rolled her eyes. 'Your hair feels damp, you sure you don't want to dry it? You don't want to catch a chill.'

'It'll be fine. You can't catch a chill from wet hair, Ethan. Oldest myth out there.'

'I know, it's a phrase- and incorrect one, mind, you are right. I don't want you to be cold at all-'

'I won't be if we get moving, will I?' She kissed him, deepening it until he responded fully.

'I only worry because of how I feel.' He repeated, desperate to make things clear.

'Stop explaining yourself, you don't have to justify anything. Not to me, anyway.'

'Good.' He whispered between kisses. 'Though, it's a shame you don't take the same approach with that stuffed toy of yours.'

'I justify the whole thing because you make him feel so ousted!' She exclaimed, mock outrage.

'Him? I'll be sure to ask him about how left out he feels in the morning, I'm sure he'll let me know.' His forehead crinkled, a smirk playing at his lips.

'He only speaks to me, and my mam on the odd occasion. Anyone who cares about or for me and him, really.'

He clasped a hand to his chest dramatically. 'Wounded. I have nothing against it-him, it's more that he's there watching us.'

'Well he can't see, can he, it's dark.' Alicia said innocently.

He spluttered. 'Well. I'm sure he'll tell you everything he thinks of me in the morning, all that opinion he's formed in his polyester brain. I can't _help_ but feel judged.'

'Good.' She said, though he could hear the smile in her voice. 'He'll feel about you how I do, we're in tune, see.'

'Ah, right. And how do you feel then?'

'That would be telling. Maybe I'll let you know in the morning.' She whispered.

Their fingers twined, while lips locked once more.


End file.
